


The Warmth in Hands

by wanderingfujoshi



Category: Samurai Flamenco
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingfujoshi/pseuds/wanderingfujoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hazama has something he'd like to talk about. It involves Hidenori and his girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warmth in Hands

   Hazama Masayoshi paced his apartment back and forth. He was also biting his nails, and from time to time he would yell and furiously run his hands through his hair. _I’m going to tell him. I’m going to ask him about that girlfriend of his._

   Hazama was waiting for Goto to show up for their usual get-together. The curry was prepared and Harakiri Sushine was in the DVD player, ready to be played. All that was left was for Goto to show up. _He’s running late, isn’t he? Wasn’t it 8 o’ clock an hour ago? Is this clock working? Am I going insane?_ The anticipation mixed with fear and nervousness had formed a solid knot in his stomach and was threatening to make him sick. _I have to tell him._

   The truth was Hazama had unearthed a secret of Goto’s that he thought Goto should talk about. It had been weighing on his conscious for too long and he felt it was necessary to just talk it out. Was he being selfish? _No, of course not. A hero cannot shirk his responsibilities just because he is scared. Fear is not something to be ashamed but instead it should be faced head on. I’m Samurai Flamenco, for goodness' sake! I won’t run away anymore. If Goto doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t force him but there’s no harm in just asking, right? Right? RIGHT? Shishou! What should I do?_

   The door knob turns and Goto enters loudly, complaining about the weather. The noise from Goto’s entrance seem almost surreal juxtaposed to the moments of anticipation soaked silence just before. Goto finally reaches the living room where Hazama still stands by the TV.

   “Curry again?” Goto sighs, “Won’t even bother making a fuss. I’m starving. Thanks.” He is visibly much tired then he usually as he takes his usual seat and begins to dig in. Hazama quickly seats himself next to Goto and also starts eating. The food was still warm. Hazama had definitely been imagining the time pass by heart wrenchingly slow, yet right now it had quickened its pace and time was quickly escaping. He had this growing desire to hold his breath in hopes that it would stop time for a while and maybe even freeze the moment. This scene where they would watch one of his favorite shows and eat curry while Goto tried to give him advice, had become an everyday scenario. He wanted to engrave it into his memory but that would be acknowledging that this would soon come to an end.

 _Since when did I even consider time with Goto to be precious?_ It was funny for this to feel strange and yet expected. Goto had always been there for Hazama, vocally pushing him on, not letting Hazama be weighed down by worries, always pulling him out of doubt and into clarity and so it was not a surprise that he meant so much. But on the other hand, this desire to monopolize him and keep him here in this apartment with him was frightening to the nervous Hazama. A hero was not meant to want or need, a hero was one to be admired and looked upon for inspiration. Hazama knew very well that love and yearning would only lead to a hero’s demise. Had the countless shows he revered not taught him that? That the road of a hero was one walked down alone. _I am a hero! I WILL protect this world,_ he thought to himself. _I will defend and uphold justice, come what may. I just have to get through this first. Goto. Goto. Goto. Goto. . ._

   “Goto!” Hazama suddenly burst. Goto jumped, surprised.

   “What the hell?” he clicked his tongue as some of the curry spilled onto his shirt. “Is something wrong?”

   “Don’t worry about me at a time like this!” Hazama noticed his voice which was shaking with tension was now being colored with tints of annoyance.

   “What?” Goto asked, genuinely confused.

   “I have something important to talk to you about.”

   “Well then, go on.”

  “It’s about your girlfriend…..”

   Goto’s face tenses up. Hazama looks down at Goto’s hands. They were not shaking which seemed like a good sign to the light haired boy. He took it as a sign to continue.

   “Mari didn’t believe you really had a girlfriend so she paid someone to find her and dragged me. . .” Hazama started to sweat profusely. His throat was dry but he willed himself to carry on. “I didn’t want to go, you have to believe me!” He was now, trying to reason with him. _Why can’t I just talk properly? I’m acting like a little boy._  

  “Hazama,” Goto began calmly. “Calm down. What did Mari find?” he scooted closer to Hazama and took both of the blond boy’s hands in his own. “What did the two of you find?”

   “Your girlfriend. . .” Hazama swallowed forcefully. His already dry throat had no moisture to swallow; it was painful, almost. “She’s . . . not well.” Hazama’s eyes were beginning to water. _Don’t cry, damnit!_ “She’s in a psychiatric hospital.” Goto squeezes Hazama’s hands firmly, causing the latter to wince.  

 _Say something to comfort him! Ask him who he texts all the time! Comfort him! You call yourself a hero? You can’t even take care of the people you love. Goto is the one who always had words ready to save you, always telling you it was alright, always assuring you, always, always there, always, always._ The words were circling around his innermost thoughts. Hazama’s eyes were closed shut, his hands warmed by the warmth from inside Goto’s covering hands. He bowed his head down so that it was leaning on their overlapping hands.

   “She recognized me from TV shows and told me to always take care of you. She said. . .” Hazama was desperately trying to keep his voice stable enough to finish his sentence, “you knew.” The hands over his tighten their grip.   

   “You idiot, look at me.” Goto said in a gentle voice. “I’m serious,” He said more sternly. “Look at me.” Hazama slowly did as he was told. He didn’t want to whimper as he didn’t want to appear weak but he couldn't stop a sniff from escaping.

  “Of course I knew. She’s been in and out of the hospital for years.” Goto held Hazama’s face in his hands as the light haired boy tried to duck. “Don’t avoid my eyes, look at me. *bleep* has been my girlfriend for a while now. The person I have been texting all this time is the same person Mari and you were with today. She is my first love, the person I wanted to be with.”

   “Why didn’t you tell me?”

   “And what? Let you pity me? My hands are already full taking care of you and Samurai Flamenco. But I like how things are despite the trouble you guys are.” Goto’s hands were still cupping Hazama’s face, his thumbs lightly stroking the younger boy’s face. 

   “What is wrong with her?” Hazama asks gingerly. “You don’t have to answ-“

   “It’s alright.” Goto releases Hazama’s face and lets his hands fall weakly on his legs. Hazama moves even closer to the older man, close until their eyes are just a couple of centimeters apart. Hazama is certain Goto can feel his uneven breaths. Goto still hasn’t spoken and the silence seems to stretch grotesquely.

  “Nothing is wrong with her,” he begins. Hazama notices Goto’s hands shiver every few seconds. “She was just someone that the world was too hard on. She occasionally has panic disorders", he adds. "Text messaging and calling me always seemed to help her. I’ve been so busy recently that I haven’t been paying attention to her. To be honest, she didn’t even tell me she was hospitalized again. That threw me off just now.

  “I’m sorry, Goto. I’m so sorry. Shishou and I have caused you noth-“

  “Can it, it’s not your fault. You’re not forcing me to help you.” He waved off Hazama’s apology. “I had planned to live each day with her even if it was not possible physically but I could be her in so many other ways, or at least that’s what I told myself. Eventually though, and before I could notice it, you were taking more and more of my time and my thoughts. *beep* noticed it, maybe that’s why she is trying to distance herself from me.” Goto held his head in his hands and rubbed his short hair.

  Hazama once again had the growing urge to touch him, to offer some form of relief and make him feel alright.

  “I was thinking of moving closer to her recently but I always felt it wasn’t a good time.” He says with a sigh. Hazama inhaled sharply. _No, no, no. Don’t leave me._ He couldn’t stop the thoughts and dread and fear and unease from making their way up his spine. _I need you just as much as she needs you. Don’t pick her._ Hazama tried to silence the inner riot; he tried to focus on what Goto was saying. He tried to focus all his attention on the movements in Goto’s lips as he talks about his girlfriend. _His lips. . ._

   Hazama inches nearer trying his hardest to focus but the words end up jumbling together into a muddle, making no sense whatsoever. _Don’t be selfish. Don’t be dumb. Be strong. This isn’t something new or serious._ He repeats these encouraging words to himself like a mantra. Finally, the confusion that is his feelings destroy the cage he tried to force them into and he pulls Goto to his chest and kisses him. Hard. Goto’s startled lips fit perfectly. This was Hazama’s first kiss but he instantly knew it was perfect. Goto’s lips, shoulders and chest were warm. Goto was warm. _Choose me._   **Choose me**. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever and it was for a fan exchange I joined for Christmas! It's also a theory I've had about this mysterious girlfriend that's been on my mind for a while now. I used *beep* in place of the girlfriend's name. Hopefully when they finally reveal her name, I can come back and change it. Any tips or suggestions would be greatly appreciated as I'm really new to the world of fanfiction.


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